I live near Thunder Fiend Valley.
It's a place out in the middle of the Celestial Dragon Empire that gets hit with lightning so often you'd think the heavens had a personal vendetta against it. Legend goes, a few immortals decided to have a tussle back here in the day, and Perfected Sovereign Myriad Thunder smashed some poor Demon Immortal so hard he broke the world itself.
The result? Thousands of years of nonstop storms ripping open the sky and occasionally dumping random crap from beyond the stars. From monsters, to strange artifacts, rare medicines, or random plants.
Naturally, every cultivator with a shred of ambition thinks this time they'll be the one to strike it rich. Thus began the golden era of exploring the disaster land known as Thunder Fiend Valley. Where people killed each other for drugs and scribbles for hundreds of years.
It was truly a beautiful era filled with adventure and riches.
At least, that's what I was told when I was younger.
I leaned back, grinding up herbs with the heel of my hand, staring out over the pitiful stretch of dirt and wood we called a village. One of many little mortal settlements that had popped up when the height of exploring the Valley by desperate cultivators had been at its peak.
Unfortunately, being smote and turned into charred beef by the hundreds seemed to have dampened much of the enthusiasm over the years. So now what was once a booming town had become a near ghost town.
I didn't really put much thought into the glory of the past. Living in a semi-abandoned village came with perks after all. Squatting in a broken building was perfectly fine of course.
Unfortunately, living out in the sticks also came with its faults.
A dry wind kicked up dust as two figures made their way down the dirt path toward me. Mayor Zhao, waddling like an apologetic goose, and Deacon Yu, practically curling his lip at the scenery like it might stain his robes.
Deacon Yu made a show of brushing imaginary dirt off his sleeve before even getting within ten feet of me. He looked at me with the usual cultivator contempt, but it seemed even more amped because of my appearance.
Hmm. I wondered if wealthy people had a universal allergy to the poor. At least in the dreams of the other place, the wealthy there were more tactful with their disdain. They at least pretended.
Mayor Zhao gave me a little wave and an awkward smile.
"Jin," he said, "I trust you've been well."
"I have been well, Mayor," I said respectfully. I kept mashing the herbs with lazy, practiced motions. No reason to rile them up and get killed for "Face."
"Is your father doing well?"
"No. I think he's gonna die soon, probably tomorrow or this week, I think," I said straightforwardly.
There was an awkward pause as Mayor Zhao's face twisted in shame.
"Hmph," Deacon Yu snorted. "Get to the point. There is no need for this prattling, Zhao. What are you waiting for?"
Mayor Zhao cleared his throat, his voice a little awkward. "Jin... we've come regarding a personal matter."
I nodded as I kept an innocent smile on my face, but said nothing.
He shifted awkwardly, glancing at Deacon Yu for backup. Yu, ever the gallant cultivator with a stick up his ass, snorted and his aura flexed.
I could feel the air around me grow thick.
"It's your engagement to Zhao Mei," Deacon Yu scoffed. "The arrangement must be annulled. She has been recognized by my Northsea Sect for her Mirror Lotus Spirit roots and will be married to the Young Master. Naturally, a great honor. I'm sure you understand."
Oh, naturally. How could I not understand? My future bethrothed had scored a better deal, and here I was — local son to a crippled and dying cultivator. Honestly, a better deal for her. Good for her.
I gave a slow nod, placing a face of obedience and ubiquitous courtesy. "I see, I understand, Master cultivator. It's truly a pity my father and your deal could not be seen through. But I do not want to hold Mei'er back from her fate."
Mayor Zhao flinched like I'd slapped him. Deacon Yu just squinted, looking for defiance or irritation.
I clapped my hands once, sending a small puff of herb dust into the air. "Well then, congratulations to Mei. May she have a long and prosperous life. I have no objections."
Deacon Yu blinked. "You... accept?"
I shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? Mei'er is blessed to be with the Young Master."
I went to get the marriage scroll and handed it over to Mayor Zhao, who had the shame to at least look a little guilty. Honestly, I didn't hold it against the man. The son of a crippled dying cultivator vs. a young master of a local sect — that was easy math.
Deacon Yu recovered quickly, sneering just a little. "Good. You know your place at least."
Mayor Zhao gave me a long, sad look. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small package wrapped in oilcloth.
"This is for you, Jin. Land rights for a small plot by the river, some coin, and... a few rare herbs. Compensation for the annulment. I hope it helps ease the burden. You are a fine young man; do not let this tarnish your reputation or stymie you from finding a good wife."
Ah. Another one of those social customs things I hadn't fully understood to.
Was having your marriage annulled supposed to be a big deal?
Having random memories from an entirely different culture really did mean you ended up making a lot of social mistakes.
I took the package without a word, bowing deeply with acknowledgment to show politeness and hide how I honestly did not care.
No point revealing to the punch wizard that I didn't really care for a girl I'd met twice.
They left in a hurry, Deacon Yu's robes practically flapping with self-importance, Mayor Zhao plodding behind with all the energy of a man trying to hide his own guilt.
When they were out of sight, I leaned back against the rickety post and let out a long breath.
No bitterness. No rage.
Hmm. I wondered if a normal person would be feeling something like shame or hate.
The memories from the other place mentioned something about... NTR?
Eh. Whatever.
I riffled through the gift the mayor had given me when I walked back home.
There were quite a few jewels, a paper deed for the plot my house was on, and a few medicinal herbs. Neat, thought he would leave me high and dry.
Hmm, I should get myself some pork tonight.
–
Outside the village, Mayor Zhao let out another long sigh.
He had made his decision long ago. But seeing Jin accept everything so quietly today had left a lingering sense of guilt he hadn't expected.
"You seem troubled, Mayor Zhao," Yu Quzong said, laughing lightly as he walked beside him.
"The marriage has been annulled, and he accepted the compensation. Even if he tries to cause trouble in the future, we'll have the moral high ground. Of course, if you're still worried, I can always go back and deal with the problem." Quzong flicked his sleeves casually. "I came since you said he was the son of a cultivator. Hmph. He hasn't even stepped into Qi Refining."
"No, no," Zhao said quickly, waving both hands. "It's not that."
He hesitated, then sighed again. "I just find it a pity. Jin's father helped the village greatly back when he was well. But… his mind has rotted over the years, it's shameful of me to leave his boy like that."
"Hmph." Yu Qiuleng snorted. "Your daughter is marrying into the Northsea Sect. Her future will be limitless. Why concern yourself with a mere village boy?"
He gave a small, sarcastic laugh.
"If you really feel that guilty, you can always marry off one of your other daughters to him. As long as it's not Miss Mei, our sect won't care."
Mayor Zhao shook his head. "It's already been settled. How would I even have the face to bring it up now..."
Another sigh escaped him. He picked up his pace, shoulders slightly hunched.
He really hoped the young man wasn't taking this too hard…
–
Mmmh. Pork was amazing. I was grinning ear to ear goddamn it was good.
I usually didn't get to splurge like this, but it felt good not just eating plain rice for once. The smell alone was enough to fill the house with a pleasant scent. I sat cross-legged on the floor of my little home, chewing slowly, savoring every bite.
The door creaked open.
I paused, half-expecting it to be the wind again, but no—heavy, dragging footsteps echoed across the worn wood. I set my bowl down and looked up.
Father shuffled inside, his robes half hanging off his shoulders, hair tangled like a bird's nest. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, but they still found me.
"Father," I said, standing up quickly. "You're back."
He nodded once, then staggered toward the nearest chair like a man who had walked through a storm. I moved to catch him before he could fall, guiding him down into the seat. Up close, he looked even worse—skin stretched thin, patches of color blooming unnaturally on his cheeks, breath ragged.
I couldn't help but wonder what state his mind was in today.
He slapped the table suddenly, making the bowls rattle.
"Fucking MCU," he growled, spitting the words like venom. "Cash grab trash! I swear, if I could go back in time, I'd strangle the idiots who made Infinity War! It's their fault! It's because of that movie! My dao was disturbed! It ruined everything!"
I nodded absently and helped fix his robe properly around him. There was no use trying to reason with him when he got like this. I pushed the bowl of pork closer.
At least he still ate.
Between mouthfuls, he kept ranting, switching topics without any warning.
"Spirit Snow Sect... Albatross Invaders... parasites on the heavens!" he barked, slamming his chopsticks into the table. "It's my duty! I was chosen to save it all! The Heavens themselves! And I would have, if not for those treacherous dogs—!"
I sighed quietly and set the food aside. It was time for the medicine.
Scooping a bitter herbal concoction into a spoon, I moved to his side. He didn't even resist as I fed it to him. The familiar haze in his eyes started to clear, just a little.
His ramblings shifted. The scattered, broken phrases hardened into something hotter and angrier.
"They betrayed me," he hissed under his breath. "Those cowards... That damned false goddess who dared to reincarnate me. I'll destroy her. I'll wipe the Spirit Snow Sect from the face of existence!"
He slammed both hands onto the table, bowls and spoons clattering to the floor.
Before I could react, he shot to his feet, knocking the entire table sideways in a loud crash.
Pork scattered everywhere. The good pork.
I let out a long, tired breath and rubbed my temples.
Then I bent down and started picking up the pork, brushing off what I could. Waste not, want not. Father stood there, chest heaving, muttering about revenge and righteous fury like it was some sacred chant.
I picked up a piece, sniffed it once, then popped it in my mouth. Still good.
"Jin."
I looked back. His eyes were clear.
Ah. It seemed he had conquered the heart demon of "dementia" temporarily.
"What day is it?" he asked.
I chewed, swallowed, and answered automatically. "The 19,048th year of the Celestial Dragon Era. Eighth month of the Golden Scale."
Father muttered something under his breath, then grunted. "Good enough."
He gestured for me to follow.
I shrugged, grabbed another piece of pork off the floor, and followed him while munching. Still tasted fine.
He moved toward the back of the house, stopping at the wall. With a quick hand sign, the earth rumbled faintly. A section of the wall shifted, revealing a narrow stairwell leading downward into darkness.
I followed without much thought. Not the weirdest thing I'd seen him do while lucid. Secret basement? Sure. Why not.
The room below was strange. Characters were etched along the walls, glowing faintly and circling a massive contraption at the center. It looked like a sea of shifting metal stars, folding and twisting endlessly. Strange glass devices and tools lined the shelves, half of which I didn't even recognize.
Father kept ranting as he moved ahead.
"My injuries... they eroded my mind, my body, my soul! Those bastards thought they could keep me down!" He spread his arms wide, voice rising into the echoes of the room.
He turned toward the swirling mass of metal and laughed. "Ever since those traitors betrayed me, I've been broken! Helpless!"
The device pulsed, sending flashes of blue light across the stone floor.
"But no longer!" he shouted, almost cracking his voice.
He whirled back to me, eyes burning. "With a perfect genetic and spiritual clone as a sacrifice, I can finally restore my strength! I will devour its life force and soul, replenish my true qi, and repair my foundation!"
I blinked once.
"Wait," I said, still chewing on the pork. "You're saying I'm not really your son. I'm just some kind of... magic clone version of you?"
Father didn't even slow down. He was already twisting dials and tapping strange glass surfaces like a man possessed.
"Yes, yes! You're not human. You're a facsimile! A clone! A perfect vessel molded after my own essence! I crafted your body and soul to be a perfect match to me. I even limited your mind to nurture the vessel properly until the time was right. I waited all these years for this moment!"
I nodded slowly.
"Huh. That kind of makes sense. Pretty sure normal humans don't have weird dreams about other worlds."
He cackled louder, the sound bouncing off the chamber walls.
"Once I sacrifice you, my connection to the Starheart will be restored! My true qi, my spirit, my body — they will fuse with the Starheart's core! Every piece of you will be devoured and converted to fuel my return!"
The shifting metal grew brighter, the air growing heavier with every passing second.
Father's voice rose into a triumphant roar.
"Now, enter—!"
"Gotcha, gotcha," I said calmly.
Before he could finish, I appeared behind him and shoved him forward, straight into the swirling contraption.
"Yeet."
He screamed, thrashing as the Starheart began to pull him in, hands clawing at the air.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU FOOL—!?"
I shrugged, stepping back, watching as the Starheart's glow grew brighter and brighter.
"Ehh... didn't really want to die. Sorry, Dad... or whatever our relationship is."
"NOOO—!"
I probably should have felt something more. Something stronger than mild annoyance at finding out I wasn't actually his son, that I had been raised like livestock, and that my supposed father was being devoured by some weird machine artifact.
But honestly?
The lights were pretty cool.
Balanced things out, really. Plus, it was kind of nice finally knowing why I was weird.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" he shrieked as the Starheart devoured him up to the torso.
"Yeah, I don't," I said. "But, well... dying looks like it sucks."
I gave a small shrug. Not much else to say.
His screaming finally cut off as his body disappeared completely into the core.
I turned to leave, figuring that was that.
Then the light started expanding.
And expanding.
And expanding.
Ah, crap.